Mass Effect Collection
by Gojiraxe
Summary: This is my collection of Mass Effect one-shots. Not always the case but most of them follow Warhero/Male/Paragon Shepard. Some of them will follow other characters. Mostly song influenced. They aren't linear, don't connect and won't always be canon. Enjoy!


**Disclaimer: I do not own the Mass Effect series, characters or their rights. Mass Effect is owned by EA and Bioware. **

**Disclaimer: I do not own the lyrics or song "Hero of War". It was written and owned by Rise Against, I take no credit for this nor money from the song or the game. This a nonprofit FanFiction written purely for enjoyment. Please support their official release. Enjoy.**

**Warning: These one-shots may contain spoilers. If you haven't played the game yet I'd suggest playing the games before reading these. Read at your own discretion. **

**Author's Note: Hi, all. It's been a while. I kinda stopped writing for a while. Job, relationship yadda, yadda. This is the first installment in a collection of Mass Effect one-shots taken in no particular order, and it could from all three games. For the most part I'm going with warhero-male-paragon Shepard, and they stories don't always connect. Some of them will be changed to fit the story. Possible slight AU's. Enjoy!**

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><p><em><strong>I: "WARHERO" <strong>_

_A hero of war,_

_Is that all they see?_

_Just medals and scars,_

_So damn proud of me,_

_And I brought home that flag,_

_Now it gathers dust,_

_But it's a flag I love,_

_It's the only flag that I trust,_

_-Rise Against_

_"We're at war. No one wants to admit it but Humanity's under attack. One very specific man might be all that stands between Humanity and the greatest threat of our brief existence." - The Illusive Man_

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><p>The Illusive Man's face flickered on the screen in Miranda's office. "How is the Normandy holding up?"<p>

Miranda sat back in her chair. Her eyes didn't never left the screen, his presence demanded respect unlike Shepard who commanded it.

"It's running tip top, better than before."

The Cerberus officer knew this wasnt what the call was about. It was about Shepard. The people back at Cerberus fell in line for The Illusive Man's charm, but she could see through it.

"Of course it is," The Illusive Man offered a small chuckle. "It was Alliance Navy. This is Cerberus tech. How is Shepard coming along?"

There it was.

Commander Shepard, former Alliance Navy as well Spectre for the council was coming along as well as any other man recently raised from the dead. A two year long memory ripped a hole in his mind. Shepard needed time to adjust. The surviving members of the Normandy SR-1 had two years, Shepard remembered it like it was yesterday. For him it was. They had time to move on. He didn't.

Still, a lesser man would've cracked under the pressure. Raised from the dead and straight back into the frying pan, it was all of his marine training.

"He commands the team well. Everyone is happy to serve under him, myself included."

The latter was a white lie. So far she liked what she saw but Miranda was Cerberus ' second in command. Everything she had done was for Cerberus, Shepard was an outsider and they gave him what took her years to accomplish.

"Though he has tried to contact the council about his revival."

The Illusive Man seemed pleased with his operatives responce. "Anderson?" His voice lacked surprise.

Miranda nodded her head in responce.

"This was to be expected." He dismissed it. "Let it through."

A surprised look over took Miranda's face. "I don't mean to question you, but are you sure?"

Being second guessed by his one of his own operatives wasn't exactly what the Illusive Man enjoyed, but the delay in their screen time gave him enough time to hide his anger. "Yes." He replied, but the lag couldn't hide the irritation in his voice.

"Seeing the familiar faces of the original crew along with the ship has made his integration with Cerberus go a lot more smoothly, in my opinion." Miranda eagerly changed the subject.

The Illusive Man light up a cigarette. For those who knew him it was strange to see him without one. "But he still doesn't consider himself one of us, right?" He took a long drag off his cigarette, letting the smoke roll out of his mouth and nostrils.

She nodded her head in responce. His assumption was correct. Shepard wanted almost nothing to do with Cerberus. Recently she found out that Shepard was going to make an appeal to the council.

"Shepard doesn't know what to think." She admitted. "He still has some faith in the Alliance. He wears the N7 armor over the Cerberus armor."

The red cherry from the cigarette contrasted his shiny blue eyes. "N7 has some of the best gear. It's what he's familiar with. I see no reason for him to change."

A piece of Miranda felt betrayed by Ceberus. Years of hard work and determination had brought her to her position within their secret organization. She didn't credit any of genetic appearance to her rise though it was useful in her deep cover field work. Miranda Lawson didn't wear the Ceberus issued armor either, but at least she boasted the colors and logo on her uniform. Shepard refused to use their armor, guns and supplies. The most he used was their ship, and their intel. He was proud, not a fool.

"Where is he now?" The Illusive Man broke through her invisible wall that separated her thoughts from reality.

That was a good question. A question that was without an answer. Miranda minimized his window, pulling up the cams that were placed all around the ship.

Shepard wasn't in any of the usual spots. Sometimes he could be seen shooting the shit with Joker, or eating with the crew. The commander liked to keep the morale of his team high. Acting like one of them helped. Battle plans could be discussed with his second in command, Garrus Vakarian. It wasn't a surprise that he trusted the Turian over herself. Miranda had almost as much say as Shepard when it came to the crew and ship, but everyone knew Garrus was Shepard's right hand.

If those failed the medical bay wouldn't have been a bad guess. Project Lazarus had only one intended recipient; Commander John Shepard. So the effects and tolls it took on his mind and body had to be noted. There wasn't any other subjects to compare him to, like usual John was in a league all of his own. John made frequent, though reluctant visits to Doctor Chakwas.

But John wasn't there, either.

"EDI," Miranda called out.

Instantly EDI's voice responded. "After the events on Horizon the commander has closed himself off in his personal quarters."

"You're with Cerberus now?" Ashley practically spat. Their sweet reunited encounter had turned sour.

"It's not like that, Ash." Shepard tried to calm her down. Part of him felt like their chance encounter wasn't as much left to fate as it was left to the hands of Cerberus.

It was like Shepard was caught redhanded cheating on the Alliance Navy with the mistress Cerberus.

Ashley shook her head and wrinkled her nose in disgust. She wanted to believe Shepard wasn't actually dead, but this isn't how she wanted.

"I don't see you for two years and now that your back you're a turn coat?"

A primal rage was boiling inside of Commander Shepard. The marine liked to pride himself on being collected and patient but sometimes it was easier said than done.

"I've been in a coma for two years, Ash." Shepard tried, he really did. Garrus could tell. Miranda hardly knew him and she could tell.

This wasn't the case for Gunnery Chief Ashley Williams. "Don't call me that, you don't get to call me that." Their conversation was getting more heated. "I watched you die with my own eyes."

"Did you even look for me?" Shepard wanted to scream it, but his voice was low, the fear of the answer made his question seem more desperate than angry. His eyes locked with hers.

The question stopped her in her tracks. "Wh-wha?"

Jacob and Miranda felt like children while their parents argued. All they could do is waiting it out. Getting in the middle of it wasn't an option.

"Did you," Shepard put extra emphasis on the setence, saying it louder and more clear. "Look for me?"

Guilt washed over her body like a tidal wave, swallowing her up.

The once angry Ashley was now queit and mute. She couldn't avert her aways from the ground but Ashley could feel his glare.

A heated Shepard started to walk away, the conversation had reached its climax.

"That doesn't give you the right to turn your back on us." Ashley called out.

Being called a traitor could possibly be the worst thing aside from hearing that the woman he loved had given up on him.

"It took me two years to get over here," Ashley said with tears forming in the corners of her eyes. "Why did you have to come back and ruin it?"

"It wasn't my fault, Ashley."

"How can I believe you, you're with Cerberus now." Ashley protested. "I have to report back to the council now." She was looking for any excuse to get as far away from here as she could. "Don't follow me. Stay out of Alliance space."

Shepard recalled these memories from the privacy of his own cabin. He kept it together on the ride home from the shuttle, but he fell apart as soon as he was alone. The commander was standing infront of the mirror after taking a shower. The mirrors were steamed up, and his hands were rested on the sink.

A question lingered in Shepard's mind: what did people see when they looked at him? This was more directed at his crew.

Did they see the man? The Alliance Navy Marine that dedicated his life to one cause.

Did they see the legend? The N7 training made Shepard more than capable of joining the spectres, the first of his kind. John Shepard was the first human spectre and as far as he knew, the only one.

Or perhaps they saw the traitor? Since he was eighteen John fought for the Alliance Navy, but he went MIA for two years and resurfaced under Cerberus colors. It wasn't really his choice, and he wasn't exactly working under them as opposed to working with them but a traitor was a traitor all the same. How could his crew follow him if he couldn't stay true to one cause?

So what did they see? The medals? The scars? Or the man?

Commander John Shepard of the Alliance Navy, and Spectre of the Council was a long title. One that he earned through hard work. Though he was the best humanity had to offer, he was only human. Trivial things like stress, emotions and fear still registered in his mind. So far the odds were stacked against him, and seemingly impossible but something inside him told him to fight. To keep fighting. At this point it was the only thing keeping him going.

John cleared a portion of the mirror clean with his palm. Scars from the Lazarus Project adorned his face in a symmetrical pattern. A faint glow oozed from the cracks. In John's memory only a day ago his face was normal, now he looked some freak out of a sci-fi movie.

In a outburst of pain, and anger John broke the mirror with his fist.

There was a knock on the door.

Shepard gave no response.

"I know you're in there, Shepard." Miranda's voice called through the door.

The Commander took a minute to recall his strength. He had to be strong for his crew, he had to be. "You know the doors unlocked." He called out. Normally the door was locked, this time included, but as a gesture of good faith Shepard had given Miranda access to his room. He didn't believe there should be limits with his second in command.

The door wooshed open behind her, making the noise again as it closed. Miranda locked the door behind her.

"I'd offer to put clothes on, but this is my room." The commander said, pushing off the sink. He was putting in his best guise.

But she was seeing through it.

Miranda took note of the broken mirror, and his bloodied fist. She was going to navigate through this carefully, cautiously.

It was kind of funny in some form of irony. Before the mirror showed Shepard as the people saw him, now it reflected how Shepard saw himself: Broken.

"Commander." She greeted. Odd, she thought. Her, a Cerberus officer reporting to the Alliance officer.

"I'm not a commander anymore," John mumbled back. "At least I don't think so." The protocol from coming back from the dead wasn't exactly black and white.

"You're still the commander of this ship." Miranda retorted. There was a pause, she let that sink in.

John retrieved the jeans from his bed, donning a white shirt as well. "What did you come up here for, Miss Lawson?" He had always been a straight forward guy.

"Let me see your hand."

Shepard shook his head in responce. "I know you didn't come up here to look at my knuckles."

The operatives responce was the same. "Let me see your hand."

A defeated sigh came from Shepard as a reluctant John offered up his hand.

"You're bleeding," she said plainly.

Shepard wanted to be sarcastic, to thank her for pointing out the obvious but he couldn't find it in him.

"Sit." She commanded.

In a normal situation Shepard gave the orders, but he obeyed, sitting in the corner of his bed.

"I'll clean it for you," she offered or stated. Shepard couldn't tell the difference. He raised an eyebrow in responce. This kindness was uncharacteristic of her.

Miranda kneeled down, pressing both of her knees to the floor making herself eye level with Shepard. Carefully, but painfully she plucked the shards of glass from his hand.

"Two years I laid on that slab." John started. "Two years of my life that I don't remember, that I won't get back."

The female didn't respond, allowing him to keep going. She only focused on cleaning up his hand.

"I don't remember any of it. It was two years for you, and her." It didn't take much for Miranda to piece two and two together. Her meant Ashley. "But to me it's been like a week since half of my crew, and my ship went down. Myself included."

"All done." She stated.

Shepard seemed lost in his own words. "I didn't get time to grieve over our loss- my loss." He corrected himself. The loss of the Normandy was an Alliance loss, not a Cerberus loss. "I didn't get time to get over her."

Getting up from her knees Miranda stood over her hunched over Commander. She wanted to reach out and touch his hair, to make him feel better but she wasn't sure what their boundaries were. For a moment she just loomed over her commanding officer.

"I think it was noble of you to stay on board a sinking ship." The word sinking wasn't a literal term, though it did get sucked into the gravity of a planet and crash land, buried by time and forgotten by history.

"I wasn't my choice."

"You put your crew before yourself. You had enough time to get off that ship, but you sacrificed yourself. Not a lot of people can say they've accomplished what you have."

Silence fell after that. Shepard didn't have a retort or a responce. Miranda sat next to her commander in an effort to comfort him. Unsure of what to do with her hands, she put them in her lap.

After a while of awkward silence John finally asked the question that sometimes crossed Miranda's mind.

"What am I?"

Miranda put her hand on his neck, pulling his head on to her shoulder. Miranda kept her arm around him, cradling him with one arm.

She placed her hand over his bloodied knuckles. Miranda spoke with a soft, lulling voice.

"You're a hero, Shepard."

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><p>Author's Note: That was my first one. This took less than twenty four hours to write so forgive the rushness of it. Miranda was a little uncharacteristically nice for her character, especially this point in the game but I felt like she got nicer in the game. She was my romance my first play through so she was like extra nice to me. In an effort to keep the stories new the dialog won't always match the games, and if you see something off with the story chances are I probably changed it to fit the one shot better so you don't have to feel the need to come crying to me haha. As always, I'm not above reviews or comments. I hoped you enjoyed reading this, I have ideas for other ones. They don't exactly go in an order and they don't always connect but they'll probably follow similar choices. A lot of these are song influneced. I'm not exactly sure if I'll take requests but it might be a fun challenge. Gojiraxe, out!<p> 


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